Glass: Part I
by Sir Spankalot
Summary: Hayniss. Katniss forgets a meeting and Haymitch comes to investigate. Fighting and sex abound.
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing:** Haymitch/Katniss  
**Rating:** M (language, sex)  
**Category:** PWP  
**Summary:** Katniss forgets a meeting and Haymitch comes to investigate. Fighting and sex abound.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing associated with _The Hunger Games_ and write only for the lolz.  
**Notes:** Huge thanks to my amazing beta, girlglitch, who always understands me.

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Katniss turned the shower off, in a foul mood. However decadent this all was, however prestigious or damned important it was, she hated it. She hated those idiots in the Capitol, as bloodthirsty as they were brainless, always hungry for death, for a show. She hated the officials in charge. She hated Haymitch, Peeta, Effie, every last person involved with these ridiculous games. At the back of her mind, she knew she didn't have a choice; she needed to be in these games, to train for them, otherwise what would happen to Prim? She needed to survive and, much as she disliked it, this was the price she had to pay to learn the skills which could save her life.

Wrapping herself in a towel, she frowned. She felt like she was supposed to be doing something right now, but she couldn't remember what. She pushed the button to open the shower door and leapt back in shock when she saw someone standing in her train carriage, right outside the bathroom door.

"Haymitch!" she gasped, clutching the doorframe for support, having been scared out of her wits. Haymitch stood leaning against a counter, glass in hand, some amber liquid swirling in the bottom. A bottle of the stuff was in his other hand, half empty.

"You're late," he drawled, eyeing her incredulously, taking in the damp hair and the towel.

That's what she'd forgotten. She was meant to be attending that absurd interview preparation session. To learn how to make herself seem likeable to the insipid crowds of rich Capitol citizens, picking and choosing their favourite tributes like puppies to be thrown treats. She scoffed.

"Yes, well. I thought I could spend my time more wisely alone than with some useless person masquerading as my mentor," she snarled, stepping closer to Haymitch's hateful face. He put the bottle down on the side, but kept hold of his glass.

"Watch it, sweetheart," he retorted. "Remember, you will die in that arena without sponsors. Seeing as you're not doing so well at making friends around here, you could definitely use the help in coming up with some sort of angle to make sure they don't end up thinking you're nothing." He took a large swig of his drink. "That's the way you're heading at the moment. You're not funny, humble..." he looked her up and down. "...And certainly not sexy. I don't know how we're going to play you, sweetheart, but between you and me, we'd better work it out soon. I'd try and stay on my good side if I were you."

Katniss glared at him, hating.

"And don't forget," Haymitch rambled on, "that it's essential you attend those training sessions. You need to learn some skills, sweetheart, else you won't last two minutes. Didn't you volunteer to take your sister's place in the Games? You need to at least have something redeemable about you, or the poor little thing will be weeping over the matchbox they send you home in."

He took another long pull of whatever it was in the glass and suddenly, Katniss' rage snapped. How dare he make out she was useless? He knew nothing about her! And how _dare_ he talk about Prim like that? She grabbed the glass right out of his hand and threw it as hard as she could at his feet, where it smashed into a thousand glittering shards. Quick as a flash, Haymitch scooped her up into his arms and flung her bodily onto the large double bed in the center of the room. She rolled over with the force of the throw, her towel becoming untucked and starting to unravel.

"You idiot!" Haymitch yelled, his face flushing with anger. "Are you insane? You can't injure yourself before the Games have even started! Bloody hell, sweetheart, are you _trying_ to ruin your chances? You'll hardly see the inside of the arena before someone takes you out, if your feet are slashed to ribbons!" he stormed up to her, kneeling right on the bed in front of her. "Are you soft in the head? Christ," he turned his face away, exasperated. "And I thought you were the one people were meant to be betting on to _win_!" He broke off from his tirade and stared at her, both of them panting, cheeks stained red with fury. His eyes wandered down Katniss' neck, her shoulders, to her chest. Katniss frowned and looked down, to where her towel – having come loose with the force of Haymitch's throw – had slipped, leaving one breast exposed. Droplets of water still shone on her skin from the shower, her nipple hardened from the change in temperature. She and Haymitch made awkward eye contact for a moment, before she grabbed the edge of her towel and pulled it up, using her other hand to try and shove Haymitch away.

"Hate you," she muttered.

"Yeah, well, I can't say I'm too fond of you either, sweetheart," Haymitch sighed patronisingly.

"Stop calling me that!" she snapped, shoving him again, this time with both her hands on his shoulders. Haymitch was well-built and muscled; he hardly moved, despite Katniss being strong for her size.

"Stop shoving me, you _child_," he sneered, making a grab for the front of her towel again, simply to annoy her. It worked. She raised her hand and slapped him, hard, round the face. His head snapped to the side, and he stayed there for a minute, stunned, before turning slowly to face her. Without warning, he seized her wrists.

"That," he hissed, starting to force her arms behind her head, "was not very nice."

He continued leaning forward, driving her backwards onto the bed, pinning her arms. He transferred both her wrists to one hand, using his other hand to reach down and hold the top of her towel again.

"So, Katniss," he said, in an almost conversational tone. "If someone pins you down like this, what are you going to do about it?"

She looked at him, her face not betraying any emotion, her mouth firmly closed.

"Is that what you're going to do? You won't last long with that plan, sweetheart..." he said patronisingly. He untucked the towel from around her, exposing her top half. "Letting someone pin you down like this means they can pretty much do what they like with you, sweetheart," Haymitch continued, running his hand up her side, appreciating the feel of the soft skin. Katniss struggled, desperately trying to get his hands off her, failing miserably.

"Let me go," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I mean it."

Haymitch just grinned at her.

"It doesn't look like you've got a lot of choice in the matter, does it, sweetheart? You still haven't answered my question. What the hell are you going to do if this happens to you, hmm?" he said, giving her wrists a shake. "What if they do this?" he pinched her nipple, making her gasp. "Or this?" he grabbed the towel from where it had been resting on her hips, throwing it to the side, leaving her naked beneath him. Unruffled, she raised her eyebrows.

"I highly doubt they're going to do that to me, to be honest," she drawled, her voice sounding much braver than she felt.

Haymitch was unperturbed. "The principle's the same, sweetheart. My point is, that once someone's got you down... You'll be dead in minutes."

"_You'll_ be dead in a minute if you don't get _off_ me," she snarled, resuming her efforts to struggle away from him. She tried to get her legs out from under his – if she could do that, a swift knee to the groin should solve her problem – but he was too heavy.

"Having trouble?" Haymitch sneered, his free hand coming up behind her neck and grabbing her hair. "Pretty useless at this, aren't you? Can't stop me from doing this," he pulled her head back sharply, forcing a sound out of her that was partway between a moan and a yell. "Or this." Keeping his tight hold on her wrists, he leaned down to kiss her. She sank her teeth into his lip. He reeled backwards, letting go of her completely, his hands flying to his mouth.

"Bitch!" he cursed, his fingers coming away bloody. Summoning strength she hardly knew she had, Katniss lurched forward and gave him an almighty shove, managing to topple him from her legs. Leaping up from the bed, she snatched her towel from the floor.

"Shouldn't have done it, should you?" she jeered, retreating away from him.

"Although I suspect that that_ won't_ happen to me in the arena, thanks for the lesson, Haymitch." She bolted towards the door of the carriage, not caring that she'd have to run through the train practically unclothed. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten that the Capitol trains did not have normal doorhandles. You had to press a button to open the door. Confused, she looked around wildly, but before she could escape, Haymitch had caught up with her and was wrapping his arms around her upper body, pinning her arms to her sides. He twisted round, throwing her, catching her off-balance so that she stumbled into the wall. Her towel fell once again as she tried to right herself, a little dazed, but before she could get her bearings, Haymitch was leaning against her, using his weight to trap her.

"Not so sure of yourself now, are you, sweetheart?" he said, smirking, enjoying her annoyance. He grabbed her chin, hard. "You know you'll have to pay for biting me, don't you?"

"Fuck you."

"Now now, Katniss, don't be nasty-"

"Fuck. You."

Katniss was trying to struggle away again, but was finding it rather more difficult this time. In an attempt to free her arms, she worked them up between their bodies, clawing at his shirt. Buttons flew off, scattering around the carriage as she forced the sleeves off his shoulders, pulling the shirt down until it became a mildly useful restraint on his arms. She grinned as he frowned, cursing again as he tried to free himself and keep her pinned at the same time. He leant forwards, putting his weight on her, his breathing coming fast in her ear. Haymitch managed to get the shirt off, flinging it aside and once again grabbing her wrists. His skin was hot against hers when he leaned up close to her again. She kissed him, hard, intending to hurt him, and was pleased when he flinched away. He glared at her, reaching down to pull his trousers off, and she tugged on his hair when he leaned against her for balance.

"What was this meant to teach me again?" she asked, a smirk in her voice, as he slid his hand between their bodies.

"Shut up," Haymitch growled, sliding a finger into her. To her credit, she didn't make a noise, but when he started to push the second finger in, she let out a tiny gasp. Despite their aggressiveness toward each other, it was clear that Haymitch wasn't actually aiming to cause her pain, as he slowed his pace slightly so she could adjust to the feeling. It didn't take long for her to start moving her hips, desperate for more of his touch inside her. She kissed him again, roughly, making his lip sting. Without a word, he removed his fingers from her, instead using his hand to guide himself into her. She squeaked and gasped and twitched underneath him, unable to help herself. Haymitch pushed into her very slowly, inch by agonizingly drawn-out inch, partly because he loved watching her face when she was like this and partly because he didn't want to hurt her.

It took what seemed like an age before he was fully in her, leaning his forehead against hers, both of them panting. One of his hands loosely captured her wrists again, bringing them up above her head, whilst the other curled around her hip, gripping her tightly enough to bruise.

"You ok?" he asked gruffly, hardly able to keep his voice steady.

"Fuck you," she answered, squeezing her eyes shut, her breath coming out in little gasps.

"Manners, Katniss-" he started to say, but before he could finish teasing her, she grabbed his hair and pulled his face towards hers, kissing him desperately.

"Fuck me," she breathed into his mouth, only briefly pausing in her assault on his cut lip. He didn't need asking twice, starting slowly, tiny movements which made her breath hitch in his ear. As her kisses became more desperate, moving from his mouth to pepper his face, he moved faster, bringing his hand down from holding her wrists so the he could hang on to both her hips. She moaned , her mouth on his neck, biting the skin, sucking hard to create a mark. He was panting hard now, slamming his hips into her with wild abandon as she lifted her legs and curved them right round him so that he was the only thing keeping her balanced on the wall. Her mouth next to his ear, she let out a stream of pleas – faster, harder, don't stop, _harder dammit_ – and when she tipped her head back in ecstasy, a wonderful moan spilling from her lips, it finally brought him over the edge. They stayed there, sweat-slick and breathless, until the pleasure subsided and they could begin to regain some control. Katniss released Haymitch's hips from the grip of her legs, lowering them and leaning against him, his arms around her.

They stayed in the same position for a long time.

Katniss broke the silence. "Are you planning on leaving anytime soon?"

The bluntness of the question took Haymitch aback.

"Well, sure. If you want me to."

Katniss pulled out of their embrace and bent down to retrieve her towel. She wrapped herself in it, not meeting Haymitch's eyes. He got the message and picked his clothes up from the floor, dressing hurriedly before making for the exit. He paused.

"I can get someone to clear up that glass," he said gruffly, nodding towards the shards on the floor. She didn't answer, picking her way to the bed, taking the long way round to ensure she didn't cut herself. Haymitch halted again, awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Finally, he said,

"Make sure you come to breakfast tomorrow, or Effie'll go spare."

"Sure," came the flat, indifferent response. She was sitting on the side of the bed, her body turned away from his. She began to comb out her dark hair, still not meeting his eyes. It was only when he'd reached the door and stretched his hand out to press the button when she spoke again.

"Haymitch."

He didn't turn round, but didn't open the door either, waiting for her next words.

"Don't say anything."

He sighed. His voice came out barely above a whisper as he promised her,

"Not a word, sweetheart."

The door swished open and he was gone, leaving her sitting there and wondering how she could possibly feel so alone.

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Hopefully this wasn't too terrible to read! Part II is in the works...


	2. Chapter 2

Please see Glass Part II for the next part of this story!


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